


live a little

by Sorbus



Category: Katekyou Hitman Reborn!
Genre: Crack, Gen, Humor, Teenage Rebellion, and by god he will get it, tsuna simply wants to have a good time
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-09
Updated: 2021-01-09
Packaged: 2021-03-13 08:14:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,047
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28650366
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sorbus/pseuds/Sorbus
Summary: Tsuna has a wild night out at a bar.
Comments: 9
Kudos: 54





	live a little

“What does it matter what I think?” Tsuna was raising his voice for once in anger, and the sharp edges cut of his words through the air around him. The room went silent. 

“Tsuna-” Reborn started. _Of course_. Because it was _always_ Reborn. The one who placated him and reassured him that it was fine, to keep going and just believe in what _he_ said without ever even spending a moment to listen to what Tsuna said before he dismissed it out of hand. Well, not this time.

“ _No_. Because _no-one_ ever listens to what I think. Because I’m just an- an _idiot_ , right?”

“Tsunayoshi,” The Ninth cut in, all soft smiles and gentle words. “You must understand-”

“What I _understand_ ,” Tsuna cut in again, because he was _not_ letting them get away with this. Not now, not ever. “Is that you don’t respect my autonomy as a boss, hell- you don’t even respect my autonomy as a _person_.” 

Tsuna looked around the room, and immediately could tell he wasn’t going to get any support in this. Hibari flat out didn’t care, Gokudera was raised in the Mafia and found it normal. Yamamoto was frowning a little but didn’t speak up. He was bad with anything he couldn’t immediately find a similar personal experience to relate to. Ryohei didn’t really understand, Chrome was fretting in the corner, but far too shy to say anything. Lambo was young still - hell they _all_ were young, far too young for this shit in the first place – and he couldn’t really grasp the issue either. Mukuro wasn’t there, but then again, Mukuro wasn’t really a guardian, and didn’t have any say in what went on. 

“Enough.” Iemitsu this time, because of course they’d all gang up on him. They’d all been ganging up on him since the start of the whole mafia thing, and they’d probably continue well into their retirement and deaths, just to remain petty, old, controlling men with no ability to see past their own oily noses. “You’re old enough now, and you know Vongola needs an heir. You _will_ get married, do you understand?”

Tsuna let the door slamming on his way out be his answer. 

He took refuge in a bar down town, because whenever anything went wrong for a person in one of his Mama’s drama shows, they had to go drink solemnly by themselves only to be saved by the advice of a wise stranger. Tsuna was still seventeen and barely past legal drinking age – though the age restriction hadn’t really stopped him or the people around him from getting him drunk before – and so if a wise stranger had come to sit next to him with advice that would fix the entire mess then Tsuna would have missed it. He was far too busy trying to keep his head from swaying. 

He woke up in a pile of rubbish. Appropriate. 

“Hey,” a voice from above came. “Are y’ gonna get up anytime soon?”

God?

“No,” came the voice again, dry and a little amused. “The name’s Agatha.” 

Agatha, as it turned out, was a seventy-three year old widower who was granted housing on Vongola property after her husband and – and thus livelihood – was shot down during a turf war. She swept the streets every now and again, and picked up rubbish where she found it, but mostly lurked around doorways and dragged people in for tea. All this, Tsuna had learned over tea at her place, a cosy little thing with enough character for them both. 

“Well, what's the problem?” Agatha asked, out of the blue.

“What?”

She rolled her eyes, which somehow became a lot more sarcastic on her wizened face. “You obviously have something bothering you. Well, tell us abou’ it?” 

So Tsuna told her. And told her. And somehow telling her about the marriage thing became telling her about the entire mafia thing and his complete and utter lack of desire to be in it in the first place. Even some of the whole ‘bullied’ thing came up with a side of ‘my parents are a little useless’ and ‘none of my friends understand me at all’. All in all, it was a very cathartic evening. 

“Ah, what you need to do is some healthy ole rebellion! Not a kid I knew your age that hadn’t said, ‘well fuck tha’ once in awhile.” She took a long hearty gulp of her third cup of tea in a way that made it appear she was drinking subpar ale in a run-down pub instead. “Live a little, I say! Go away overnight, skip school. Elope with your lover instead. But you gotta do something or you’ll be stuck as their goody-two shoes for life ya hear.” 

Tsuna thought it over, for once considering going against Reborn’s explicit orders. It wasn’t a thought he’d entertained in a while, but...

“Okay,” he said, putting down his tea cup. “Let’s go.”

Agatha almost spat out her drink. “You what?”

Two days after Tsuna was, for lack of a better way to put it, _lost_ , the Ninth was reaching the end of his tether. He couldn’t afford to lose his only heir, not right then and not ever, and losing him right after an argument was- painful, really. So he was doing some work he usually would delegate for lack of anything else to put his mind to. The stress was bad for his heart. 

He was shifting through letters before coming to a single, innocuous bit of post that almost had him dropping the entire pile. It was from Tsuna. 

Opening the letter with familiar writing and noting the blank piece of paper that soon burst into flame – _Tsuna’s flames_ _–_ the Ninth turned to the only other object within the letter. A small, glossy photograph slipped out, evidently from some sort of disposable camera, depicting Tsuna and some old lady sipping juice out of coconut shells on a tropical beach. The back read:

‘ _Found myself a lovely woman. We’re on our honeymoon, see you in three weeks!’_

A face that seemingly was winking at him had been drawn crudely underneath. 

“So,” asked Tsuna, lounging in the sun and thousands of miles away from Vongola territory. “How would you like to be one of my advisors?”

**Author's Note:**

> this is actually a few years old, i just found it rotting away in my files lmao and i couldn't find evidence that i already published it so


End file.
